Malice in Wonderland
by Innocenta
Summary: AU: After a hunt gone very wrong, Dean finds himself in a demonic dimension where humans are considered inferior and are sold into slavery.
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Sam and Dean Winchester belong to Eric Kripke. I do not own any characters, and/or story lines that are recognized in the show.

**MALICE IN WONDERLAND  
**Written by Innocenta

Alright this is my first attempt at trying my hand at writing fan fiction. Until now it has just been my own stories/characters that are my own idea and not based on a television show. However have to branch out, don't I? I hope you will enjoy this, and don't worry I'm a fast update. This story takes place in Season 3, so yeah there are spoilers.  
_-Author's note._

_--------------------_

**-Prologue-  
**

Where's Dean?

That was all Sam Winchester could think about. His heart beat fast against his chest, making it feel like it was about it rip clean from his flesh. He looked around, dazed and worried because he could not see Dean anywhere. Sam could have sworn he had seen the guy turn down this street, but clearly he must have been imagining things because Dean was nowhere in sight.

Sam could not wrap his head around the whole situation he was in. Why had Dean been so stubborn? Why had his big brother insisted on going after this demon by himself? It was a careless idea, something Dean had been doing a lot of lately. Dean figured "hey I'm dead in a year what difference does it make if I die in battle anyway."

Sam had grown tired of his brother's new self sacrificing nature. Besides was it not Dean that had once said to Sam that nothing was worth dying over? Dean had been a hypocrite, and Sam just prayed silently to himself that his rouge decision to go after a powerful demon by himself had not ended in his death.

Never less, though, Sam would not give up hope. He would keep looking for Dean, he was bound to be around somewhere. He had to be—or perhaps that was just Sam trying not to grip his hands around the reality that maybe, somehow Dean's self destructive streak had finally come to an end.

_--------------------_

"What do you mean he's gone!?" Bobby asked, gapping at Sam. The hunter wore an expression of pure concern and angst.

"I did not mean dead if that's what your thinking." Sam retorted. He had raised his voice at Bobby. He had not meant to rasie his voice, but it was not something he was going tp say he was sorry for either. Dean was missing, and the longer he and Bobby sat there with their thumbs up their asses the shorter amount of time Dean had left. Dean was not dead, Sam would not believe it until he saw his older brother's lifeless body to prove otherwise.

"So this demon..." Bobby begun but was not able to finish his sentence because Sam cut him off mid way.

"This demon takes people, that's what it does." Sam answered, before Bobby could finish. "It finds someone, I don't think it matters who and drags their bodies God knows where, where it does God knows what to them." Sam was saying this all in stern tone, he thought that perhaps if he concentrated hard on the hatred he had for this demon he had never seen or heard of before then maybe it divert his concern away from Dean's sudden disappearance into thin air.

"How long have you been tracking this thing?" Bobby asked Sam.

Sam folded his arms firmly against his chest, pursing his lips. "What difference does it make?" he asked rather coldly. "My brother is missing. I have to find him."

Bobby frowned. "No Sam, we have to figure out what we're up against before we go up against it."

Sam was not listening to these words, all he could think about, all he cared about was finding Dean at this point nothing else in the world mattered to him more.

_--------------------_

_He was falling._

_Dean's eyes were frozen open, he could not blink, he could not move his own body. His head was spinning, the whole world around him was spinning. He could not see much around him expect a whole heap of darkness, but it felt like something was pulling him, pulling him closer and closer to something. He just did not't know what. _

_Dean did not't really remember much, either, the last he thing he remembered seeing, hearing was a demon, a young man that had had entirely black eyes, a demonic possession, he had chased it down a street. He remembered almost getting hit by a car as he had been forced to dart all over the place trying to get his hands around that son of a bitches throat. _

_The demon, it must have done something to him, because the last thing he remembered before this sudden head haze was touching it. Dean had barely even made contact with the demon's skin. What had to done? Where was he now? _

_Dean was swimming now, he could feel his body again, he was floating in something, some kind of think liquid. It smelled, smelled like blood. He could not move any muscle in his body except move his eyes around. He looked around him, frightened, confused, he was swimming in a pool of blood. But how, and where had to come from? All these questions started circulating in his mind. Questions he did not't even have the answer too. He tried to move his hands, his legs, he did not't want to be in blood, he wanted to get out of wherever the hell he was, he wanted to get back to Sam. _

_Sam._

_The thought of his younger brother came into his mind. Sam must be worried sick about him, and to think that last thing Dean had said to him before storming off to go after a demon that did not't even know the M.O of was "I hate you." These words brought tears to Dean's eyes, he did not't mean it, of course he did not't mean it. But some part of him must have, after all he had said it Had not't he._

_Great, and to think he was being sucked into another dimension of some kind, swimming in blood, having to feel cold corpses floating around him, made his desire to talk to Sam again much more greater. He had to see his younger brother, tell him he was sorry. He had to do something, he could not just leave it at "I hate you."_

_Dean could feel something pulling him again, this time whatever it was was much stronger. It felt like he was being sucked down a giant whirlpool. Hey, maybe he was, the thought of the demon throwing him down some giant toilet was quite a amusing but highly unlikely. Dean could move his legs again, sensation was coming back, but it was not't over yet. In fact Dean had a nasty feeling that whatever was happening, wherever he would end up would be far worse than a pool of blood and dead floating bodies._

_--------------------_

With an enormous thud, Dean landed on something—something hard, yet soft. It was grass.

Still lying, spread eagled like he had just fallen from the sky, Dean's eyes snapped open. Everything was a blur, though only for the first thirty seconds, after that his vision seemed to come back. He slowly sat up, his head aching, his limbs caning, he looked around. Nothing about his surroundings seemed at all familiar to him. He was lying in the middle of a deserted street, in fact the more he looked around he more the place seemed familiar to him as the street he had chased the demon down. But something was off. The street before had been clean, filled with cars and people with shopping bags crossing the road. But now it was different, there were no cars, no people, and all the little shops and diner he had seen before were all boarded up, some were no longer even there, just a large pile of splintered wood and broken window glass. Something was wrong, big time and for one, before it had been daytime—no later than noon, lunchtime, now it was pitch black, midnight at the earliest. What the hell was going on? What the hell had happened? What did that demon do to the world?

Carefully, slowly, Dean began to rise on two feet.

"Hey, you!" a voice called from behind him, causing Dean to fall back to the ground again.

With a loud moan Dean landed on the road on his backside, his tail bone hurt like mad. He glanced around him to see who had called out to him. He spotted them—and it was them too, five men, all armed, all glaring at him—their eyes entirely black and all them had the guns cocked and pointed in his direction.

They were demons, and he was screwed as all hell.

_--------------------_


	2. Chapter One

**-Chapter One-**

Five demons, all men with entirely black eyes were glaring fiercely at him, each holding a gun their hands. Dean did not't know what to do, his heart thumped against his chest, he felt numb all over, and most part of him was thinking _I'm so screwed_. Five demons, he could not't take that many on at once, it was impossible. The odds on this one were not comforting.

Dean slowly stood, holding both hands up as if in gesture of "I surrender." Dean kept his eyes focused on the demons at all times, he did not leave their gaze, not even to blink. His eyes were watering, but he did not care. It was either them watering and hurting like mad, or him dead.

"I come in peace." Dean said, shaking his head slightly, knowing that what he had just said had sounded so queer.

"Human!?" one the demon's said, Dean suspected it was the leader because it was the oldest and ugliest. That made sense.

"Me?" asked Dean, pointing his index finger at his chest.

"What are you doing on this turf?" another one of the demon's asked, this one was much more taller than the last with a bald head. He looked more dangerous.

"Turf?" Dean asked, utterly confused. He had no idea what the demon was talking about, in fact he had no idea what the demons were doing with guns, could not't the fugly bastards just send people flying across a room with one swift movement of their hands. It was all weird to Dean, nothing made sense.

"Who is your master?" the bald demon asked again, he more so demanded because his tone of voice was harsh, stern and direct.

Dean continued to look dazed. "Master?" he repeated, it was like he and the demon were speaking two entirely different languages. "I don't have a master."

There was a lot of talk among the demons when Dean had uttered these last words. Dean was unable to hear what they were saying, and for once in his life he was kicking himself for not taking that lip reading course back in high school. Dean could make out some words though, some of them sounded like "free ranger" or something along those lines. He could hear more, the leader demon saying "we don't like free rangers." Dean was still dumb founded by the whole situation he was in. What had happened to the world he had been in before? The world where everyone was all happy. The world where, oh yeah, there were no demons pointing guns at people's heads.

"What will we do with him?" one the demon's asked, this was had flaming red hair.

"Kill him?" the bald demon suggested.

Dean's eyes widened with shock at these words, they were going to kill him? But before he could fret on possible and not so comforting notion any longer the leader demon shook his head in disagreement.

"That would not be wise." the leader demon said sternly. "I believe that we could get a pretty penny for this one, he's young, looks healthy enough, let's say we put him on the market for the highest bidder."

"Now wait a minute here!" Dean said briskly. He did not't like the sound of being auctioned off like some kind of antique. Though antiques were valuable, no what was he thinking, he did not't like the sound of the demon's idea. But there was not't much he could do anyway, they had the guns and he had only few drops of holy water left but that would not't be enough to stop them all. Besides, holy water did not't kill demons, it just merely slowed them down.

"The human answers back!" the red haired demon snarled. "That will bring down the price."

"Yes, true." agreed another demon with mattered black hair. "But if it dared speak that way to it's master it's master would have it's head and carve it up like a turkey at thanksgiving."

"You celebrate thanksgiving?" the bold demon asked him.

Mattered haired demon shrugged, "No, never really got the big attraction, but I know they eat turkey."

Dean could not't believe what he was hearing, were these yahoo's for real? Were they really going to auction him off? And why the hell were they calling him an 'it' like he were some kind of animal? He had a name, but somehow Dean did not't really think that they really gave a damn if he had a name or not.

"Alright let's just chill out, okay?" Dean suggested, but the other demons did not't really share his view.

"He's a chatter box too" the bald demon said. "That'll bring own the price even more. You know what I say, I say we kill it."

Dean could not't take standing around, waiting for the demons to figure out what they were going to do with him, he had to make a run for it. But where would he run? Dean looked around, frantically, trying to look for the best escape route. There were plenty of alleyways that he could run down, but that would only lead him to a dead end for sure. He had to think of another way out of this one. He could always fight them, but he would not't be able to kill them. He was trapped, outnumbered, doomed. Dean's best option right now would be trying to convince them to put him up for auction, or whatever it was the leader demon had said before. At least that way he would get out this one alive.

"Killing him would be too easy." the mattered hair demon said. "It would be like shooting an animal in a cage. Now where would be the fun in that?"

The other demons all gave each other a nod, then turned on Dean, all wearing corrupt grins on their faces.

Dean had to run, he had to get out, but where would be run? There was nowhere. Besides it felt like his legs were paralyzed on the spot, he could not't move, fear seemed to be holding his body hostage. Dean would have to stay and fight, if he were to die, it did not't matter, he was dead in a year anyway. Besides the looks on the son of a bitches faces was not sitting well with Dean.

Dean moved into a fighting stance, fists ready, ready for a fight. He did not't want to have to go up against five demons all at once, but he was not't seeing any other option here. The mattered haired demon moved toward Dean, his teeth were rotten, and his breath was not't any better either. Dean wrinkled up his nose, his breath smelled strongly like rotting flesh—it smelled like death. It was disgusting but the rest of him was not't much better either. Dean suspected that the men it was possessing had been someone that had been living on the street, for a long time too. The demon was pale, malnourished, it's skin hung loosely from his bones, he looked like a walking, talking human skeleton wearing baggy clothing that could substitute as rags.

Dean's gaze moved away from homeless mattered haired demon to the bald one. The man that demon was possessing was the complete opposite to the other one. He was well built, dark skinned, he had an air of snobbery about him, perhaps he was someone high up on the demonic food chain.

"Five on one. That does not't look fair."

Leader demon shrugged. "What in life really is?" it replied, it leaned forward, trying to grab him.

Dean snapped his fist forward, putting all his weight into it, and gave it a hard punch in the face. The demon took the punch with ease, it continued to smile—a crooked and corrupt sneer. The other demons around it laughed.

"Is that all you got?" leader demon sneered. "It's weak, really, but then again I have to say a human fighting back, it's a new one."

Dean frowned. "What are you talking--" before he could finish his sentence he felt something heavy hit the back of his head. His rolled back, his lolled to one side, he fell to the ground and then it all went black.

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Sam had been pacing Bobby Singer's living room floor for the past hour. Bobby was seated on the sofa, flipping through numerous old books he had from his collection he had collected, bought, stole over the years. Sam had never had the opportunity to ask Bobby where he had gotten all those eccentric collection of old books, amulets, and numerous other cursed and funky objects that Bobby kept around his place. In fact the thought of asking Bobby had never occurred to Sam. But perhaps now would not be the best moment to ask. He would have to ask the hunter when Sam knew for sure that Dean was safe and sound.

They had not found anything so far, not even jack squat and time was running out. Dean's life was slowly ticking away, like a clock that could not be turned off at a power switch.

Sam watched out of the corner of his eye as Bobby let out a heavy sigh. Clearly that old, musty book had gotten nowhere. Sam was not't just pacing, standing around just looking pretty, he was doing research of his own. He had just been on the laptop trying to find the demon, but it was hard, they did not't even have a name to go by so it was like looking for a needle in well a stack of needles.

In his hand Sam held his cell phone to his ear, a new one, of course because his last one he had had to destroy after Gordon went all vamped out on them. Sam had been trying to dial Bela for the past half hour. She was not't picking up, not the first time she was due to disappoint. Bela Talbot was a wild card but right now she was Sam's only option of getting Dean back. Or was she?

Sam ended the call, she Had not picked up anyway and turned to Bobby, a sudden thought accruing to the young man.

"Hey, Bobby" Sam said, finally he had finally stopped pacing.

Bobby grunted response to let Sam know that he had the hunter's full attention.

"Do you know how to summon demons?"

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He was lying what felt like nails stabbing in his back.

Dean opened his eyes only to realize that that had been a useless, he could not't see anything. At first Dean had feared that he had gone blind, that the demon's had gone something truly awful to him, but it was not't the case. He could feel the knot in the back of his head where a piece of cloth must have been tied. He was blindfolded. His hands were tied to, he could feel the ropes, the were tight, cutting into his skin, burning his flesh. If Dean could have he would have let out a moan of pain, but that was useless too his mouth was gagged. He could not't move his legs either they were bound too.

Dean felt really uncomfortable and not just because he was lying on his back on a cold, hard surface and not to mention bound and gagged but because he knew something was not't right. Well that part was obvious, but something was not't right with the world. It had been different, it had been dark when it should have been light, there had been no people moving around and the demons had been running free in the city, auctioning off people. It just did not't make sense. The pieces did not't fit, in fact there were no pieces to this puzzle. When the demon had touched him it had done something, it had sent him somewhere, a world that was not't right, a world that was completely wrong on so many levels.

The sound of a door slamming open made his heart jolt. He could not't see anything so he had to rely on his ears. He listened to the footsteps that were coming closer toward him, someone—someone strong reached for his arm and pulled him up. It's overgrown fingernails dug into the skin on Dean's arm. Dean tried to scream out in pain, but it was useless. The thing, whatever it was, Dean was going to go with demon on this one—mainly because of it's strength.

It was taking him somewhere, that could not be good.

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	3. Chapter Two

**-Chapter Two-**

Dean could not see anything—mainly due to the fact that he was blindfolded.

He could hear voices coming from all around him, in all directions. The demon still had him in it's firm grip. Dean had thought of trying to escape, believe him he had tried, but every time he even even tried to fidget the demon would shock him something. It hurt, like being electrocuted. Dean just hoped that the shock had not made his hair stick out at all ends, that would be incredibly embarrassing, not to mention him being gagged, blindfolded and being dragged around a town of someplace.

Dean did not't know where he was. All he knew was that the ground beneath his feet was hard. The air around him was thick, cold, shivers escalated up and down his spine. He could hear drops of water coming from someplace near him, he could hear the scratching sounds of rats as they raced across the floor, some even ran over his feet to reach the other side of the room. Dean had a feeling he was a warehouse of some kind because occasionally his arms would brush against wooden crates, and cardboard boxes. Yes, a warehouse seemed like a good guess. Defiantly not a promising notion though. He would have rather been somewhere that would not't so closed in, so that once Dean made his get away he would not't have to run around trying to find an exit. It did make escaping more difficult, but then again Dean figured that was the whole point. The demons did not want him to escape, now did they?

"Here!" the demon said gruffly, throwing Dean to the ground.

Dean chocked on the cloth that gaged his mouth. His ribs hurt after being pushed onto the hard, cold cement flooring. If it was not't for the ropes that bound his hands together behind his back Dean would have rubbed his sides, nursing them, either that or given that demon a good hard punch in the face.

Dean could hear the demon bending down beside him, he could feel it's dry and cracked skin on it's hand make contact with the side of his face. The demon started to untie the pieces of cloth that kept Dean was seeing and speaking. As soon as the cloth was removed from his mouth Dean coughed, he coughed up blood. Even though his blindfold would not't removed yet he could tell that the thick liquid that was now running down his chin and onto the front of his shirt had been blood and not mucus. He could smell it. It was just like how a hairdresser knew the fried egg smell of a new done perm, and how a flouriest would know the many different aromas of numerous flowers and plants, a demon hunter knew the smell of blood. It was something Dean had become accustomed to since his early childhood.

When the blindfold was finally removed Dean could see where he was now. He had been right, it was a warehouse—of some kind anyway. It was large, it have been dark if it was not for the hundreds of tall candles that were around, dimly lighting the room with an eerie glow, Dean looked around, hundreds of crates and boxes were in each and every corner of the room, stacked on top of each other. Dean's gaze turned back to the numerous objects that surrounded him, they were interesting, dangerous even. Some of the objects were weapons, numerous collections of funky looking guns and knives. There were old books, dusty, blood stained, they each smelled strongly of decaying flesh. A sick thought occurred to Dean that the leather that bound these old books was probably made up of human flesh. Dean wanted to throw up, but he would have to restrain himself from doing so.

The sound of a soft whimpering beside him made Dean crane his neck around to get a better look. It was a girl, a young women in fact, who looked no older than eighteen. Alike Dean her hands and feet were bound by rope, but unlike Dean she still had a blindfold covering her eyes. She wore long dress that looked old, worn, like rags. They were stained by dirt and blood. Her face was covered by a long tangle of mattered bloody blond hair. She struggled to get up, her hands were bloody and so was the rest of her. She was covered in bruises and numerous painful looking cuts, some of them even looked infected. Dean suspected that she must have been in the warehouse for awhile now, and before she had been beaten to a bloody pulp, tortured even. Though despite the state she was in the only sounds she was making was that of slow whimper and soft raspy breathing. Dean felt his heart go out to her. He wanted to help her, to get her out, but at that moment he could not even help himself let alone her.

Dean looked around for more people, but there were none tied like him and the young women. There were however, demons, a lot of demons. There were chairs lined by just in front of him, all in rows, at least five rows. It reminded Dean of an auction, and then that reminded him of what those demons had said about auctioning him off for a pretty penny. That's what this was about, they were going to sell him to the highest bidder. It was a demonic auction and he was the new item up for sale.

The demons all took a seat, none of them looked horrified by the sight of having humans up for sale in fact some of them were eying Dean with great interest. Dean was sickened by the thought.

"Alright, welcome ladies and gentlemen." a voice called out to the crowed, each and every demon looked up toward the stage.

Dean could not't see the guy that had called out to the crowd, he still lying painfully on his side, he could see the man's shoes though, shiny and black. Dean had the sudden urge to take one of the sharpened knives that was displayed near him and stab it in the guy's foot. He would have taken this urge up too, it was not't for the ropes that were preventing him from doing so. Dean should have been looking at it like were good thing, really, because if he were stab the guy in the foot he would risk having to fight the fifty-something demons that were all seated in the room.

"Today ladies and gentlemen we have a wide and very rare collection, as I might add, for sale." the guy said, he was the auctioneer of this thing. "We have a wide verity of weapons, that's right, and even two humans."

There was a great deal of talk when the auctioneer demon said "humans." Many of the demon's eyes moved to Dean. They licked their lips, fixating their black eyes hungrily upon him. Dean tried not to look at them, they were seriously beginning to make him feel more uncomfortable than he already was.

"First human--" the auctioneer demon said, reaching down to pull the young women by her long dark hair. She was still blindfolded, but she clearly knew what was going on. She tried to kick at the auctioneer but he just zapped her with a gun of some kind, it electrocuted her, just like the demon that had carried Dean into the warehouse had done to Dean. "--This lovely young lady, who might I say is very charismatic. Use her as a slave, gouge her eyes out and boil them in a soup or cut her head off and mount on the wall, it does not't matter what you do. The bidding will start at three hundred."

Dean felt like he was going to throw up, again, these demons were sick. Honestly he had been hunting evil for basically his entire life now and nothing he had ever hunted had been as evil, as sickening as this was. Dean tried not to watch, tried not to listen as demons bid on the poor young women that was trying to break free from the auctioneer demon's grasp. Dean could not't stand the sight, he hated it more than anything else. This was evil. He used to get demons, in a way they were like hunters, you know they killed for their honor and blah blah blah, but this would not't honor, this was just sick.

"Seven thousand and sold!" the auctioneer demon cried, pointing toward a male demon with red eyes seated at the third row of chairs.

The young women let out a squeal of terror as the auctioneer shoved her into the red-eyed demon's arms. The red-eyed demon, clearly pleased with his purchase placed a collar and leash around the poor girl's throat. After removing the blindfold it tossed her on the ground kicking her hard in the ribs, she let out another moan of agony before being dragged like a dog across the concrete flooring.

The young women's screams faded as she was dragged by the demon carrying the leash out of the warehouse. Dean watched her, a tear escaped from one of his eyes and rolled down the side of his face. He swore to himself, made a silent promise to her that he would rescue that girl, get her out whatever hell they were both trapped in whether it be the last thing he ever did.

"Next on our list of items--" the auctioneer demon said, this time he reached for Dean by the color of his leather jacket. "--another human. This one has quite a mouth on him, be warned, but if he gives you any cheek and beating the stuffing out him won't do the trick than just stitch his mouth together, wait for the pus and blood to dry and then let it get back to work. The bidding will start at, once again, three hundred."

Dean watched, his eyes darting from here to there at the different demons that were trying to buy him. Two were fighting over him, a man and a women demon both with entirely black eyes both fighting over him. Dean looked around at the many demons that were seated, he even could have sworn that some of them were glaring at him, loathing in their eyes and not just because he was human, he had the feeling that some of the demons knew him—perhaps from past encounters with him and his younger brother Sam. Sam Winchester, Dean's younger brother came floating back into his mind, Dean did not want to think about him, it only made things worse. The fight they had had just a hours before, to think that Dean was going to be sold as a slave to some demonic son of a bitch, and to think that the last words that had come out of Dean's mouth had made his little brother's eyes fill with tears.

In the end Dean was sold to a elderly male demon with very little teeth, he reminded Dean of a stereotypical hillbilly. He even sounded like one too. Dean just hoped that this fellow had a shotgun because if Dean would have to listen to that voice while he had to clean out toilets then he may as well put the shotgun to his head and blow his brains out.

The hillbilly demon tied a piece of rope around Dean's neck, chocking him. He kicked him hard in the stomach, and then tugged on the lead.

Dean let out a hollow laugh. "If you think I'm gonna follow suite like some kind of lassie..."

The hillbilly demons narrowed his eyes on Dean then took the shock gun that the auctioneer demon was holding out. Hillbilly demon placed the shock gun on Dean's arm, electrocuting him.

Even though it hurt, stung like he had just been slapped hard in the face, Dean did not give the bastard the satisfaction of knowing it had caused him pain. He was stubborn in that way, but mostly because if there was one thing Dean knew most about demons it was that the little evil sons of bitches loved to inflict pain and torture on their victims, their black hearts longed for it. Like Dean would ever let them have that kind of enjoyment.

"--Then you got another thing..." Dean was unable to complete his protest because the hillbilly demon kept shocking him every time he even opened his mouth to get a breath of fresh air. He was forced to follow the demon, let the bastard lead him on a leash like he were some kind of animal. Dean was going to become a servant to a demon—well he very much doubted that that was something an employer saw on a resume of work experience everyday.

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	4. Chapter Three

**-Chapter Three-**

Sam waited in the Impala, the engine was still running, his hands were set firmly on the steering wheel. He kept an eye out for Bobby who was inside an occult shop gathering the last of the ingredients they would need to summon a demon. Sam waited, patiently, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He saw Bobby walking briskly toward the car. The hunter was carrying a large brown paper bag. Bobby did not look too pleased as he thrust open the car door wearing a grim facial expression.

"Not found what you were looking for?" Sam asked after noticing Bobby's expression.

Bobby shook his head in response, tossing the bag on the back seat of the car and sliding into the passenger seat.

"What's the matter?" Sam asked him, though he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what was wrong.

"This is a bad idea." Bobby said sternly, giving Sam a weary glance. "I mean I know you have done some some crazy things in your life but this is really taking the cake."

"I have no other choice." Sam injected hotly. "Dean's missing, that demonic S.O.B has dragged him God knows where, and I have to find him--"

"I get that." Bobby briskly cut across. "The part that I don't get it why your asking _her _for help."

"Why not?" Sam said, he did not see anything wrong with the idea—in fact he had come to think of it as being one of the best and brightest ideas he had ever had. The plan made perfect sense, if only Bobby were to see that too.

"Why not?" Bobby repeated. "Why, because she's a demon Sam."

"But she helped us restore the colt." Sam reminded Bobby, but the hunter still remained stubborn on this one.

"That does not change what she is." Bobby pointed out. "She's evil, Sam, or have you not learned that already. Demons can not be trusted, honestly what the hell was your father teaching you all those years on the road?"

Sam crossed his arms firmly against his chest, he was going to remain stubborn on this one. Bobby could object all he wanted to, but Sam would carry on the plan with or without the hunter's help. The demon he wanted to summon, Ruby, had helped him out in the past and if she was still willing to she could help him out now, too. She was Sam's only hope, Dean's only hope, the only way Sam would figure what they were up against. After all, Ruby was a demon right? She should know this kind of stuff.

"I don't like this idea Sam, it's like playing with fire." Bobby said. He knew he wasn't going to win this one. If there was one thing Bobby should have learned by now about the Winchester's was that no matter what they were stubborn. It was sort of a Winchester family trait. "But no matter how crazy the idea is and no matter how much I object to the idea of you befriending a demon and asking for it's help, I will see this one through with you--"

"Thanks." Sam said, smiling. "There's a but though, right Bobby?"

"But--" Bobby said, he gave the young man a small smile. "--I'll be there watching to see if she makes any wrong moves, one small toe out of line and that demon will wish she had never sought me out to rebuild that damn gun."

--------------------

When he had first woken up that day if someone had asked him what he thought the day was going to bring him, Dean would have never of answered with "being some demon's house maid." A maid was what he felt like too, though minus little outfit and paycheck. Since arriving at the demon's farm, which was what it was, Dean ad been forced to clean the house, cook the demon lunch—their diets were incredibly obscure too, a sandwich made up of live cockroaches and fly intestines, it was sick, Dean had thrown up on the first batch causing that hillbilly demon he had been forced to call "master" to shock him once more. Dean had been shocked for more things too, one was not cleaning the house right, and the other thirty or so he had received in the last fifteen minutes had been for 'smart ass remarks' that just seemed to flying out of his mouth at every given moment his "master" was around.

Dean doubted he was even in the city anymore, it was still nighttime though. Dean had to wonder how that could even be. His watch must have been wrong because it read 2:00 pm, the sun should have been up _way _before now. But Dean had come to realize that he doubted whether he was even in the same world as he had been before. He did not even think this was even the world where he was born. It was some kind of funky demonic dimension where the sun never came out to play, the air around was like toxins to the body and where humans were treated like vermin. If there had been one moment in Dean's life before that he had wished to have a holdiay than he wanted to take it back. This place was no paradise island.

Dean was in a corn field which reminded him of the crop fields from the movie 'signs' minus the crop circles from where the cannibalistic alien's spaceship had landed. Actually Dean hoped that the same thing would happen this time, he would rather take aliens over the stupid S.O.B he had been forced to call "master" any day.

"I think maybe we should take some time out, go to grand canyon." Dean started muttering to himself while shoveling a large amount of some kind of animal waste from the fields. He was quoting himself, from a conversation he had had with Sam like a year ago. "--sick of being on the road, maybe we should to Hollywood, see if we can bang Lindsay Lohan—well I frigging take it back now!" Dean had shouted these last words and as soon as he had he felt a smart amount pain in his neck where the collar had been strapped around.

_Jeez that old geezer has sharp ears, _Dean thought irritably while shoveling another pile of poo on a wheelbarrow that was nearby. He crinkled up his nose the stench of the waste was unbearable. He did not even think it was cow, horse, dog or even chicken poo for that matter. He didn't know what it was, but the smell was starting to get to him. Scratch that, it had been getting to him for quite some time now.

Dean threw the shovel down, cussing under his breath. He hated being worked like a slave, but then again Dean did not think that anyone would particularly like it that much. He moved his hand toward his neck, itching an itch that had been bugging him for awhile now. It was proving difficult for him, the collar was really being to get on his nerves. Dean moved his hand toward the buckle of the collar, ready to undo it, but a voice nearby made him stop.

Dean spun around the hillbilly demon, his "master", was walking toward him. The demon's face was pull into an expression of loathing and anger.

"I never said to stop working you little pest." the demon said, kicking Dean hard in the ribs.

Dean doubled over in pain, nursing his agonizing ribs with his hands. He scowled at the demon before picking up the shovel and once again returning to the daunting task of shoveling animal crap.

"And I would not go taking off that collar either." the demon said, it's thin chapped lips pulled into a nasty smile. "Otherwise you will loose ya head faster than you can say should 'o listened." the demon turned on it's heel, it was about to walk away when Dean called out to him, it turned it's ugly head around again, still sneering.

"I do not belong here, and you know that." Dean snapped.

"I aint giving a damn." the nastily demon shot back. "You are a human, and you and the rest of ya piss poor kind should be in shackles. You see in this world we do things a little different to the place your used to seeing. In your world demons are treated like some kind of vermin that need be exterminated but here we're gods and you lot are chained to walls and we ride you like ponies, now GET BACK TO WORK!"

"News flash, chachi." Dean said, with a smile. "You demons are still vermin, as as far I'm concerned I will never rest until all your kind is slaughtered all the way back to hell."

The demon glared at him. He pulled out the shocker gun and zapped Dean once in the arm and then twice in the throat. Dean chocked on his own blood, this made the demon smile once more.

"I really got me penny's worth for this little beauty." he chuckled, looking at the gun like it were some kind of rare and precious diamond that must be treasured.

Dean shot a nasty look at the demon once it's back was turned, he didn't really fancy feeling the smarts of the shocker gun anymore than he had already been forced to enjoy since arriving to this messed up world.

"Oh and by the way." the demon stopped int it's tracks, turned to give Dean a nasty look. "Time runs a little different around here from what you're used to."

"Oh I've noticed." Dean mumbled.

The demon had not heard this, and thank God to because Dean didn't want it to have to kick him again. He swore to himself that one of the first things he would do once he was free of the shackles that were still binding him, and the stupid dog collar he was forced to wear, that he would reach for that shocker gun and use it on the demon itself. Perhaps the bastard would not enjoy it so much if it knew what it felt like when it made contact with skin.

"By the way I got friends that will be looking for me, a brother in particular and he's not going to stop. He'll find me, and when he does he'll kill you all" Dean warned, but this had not frightened the demon in the slightest sense.

"Let him look for you, human, but the truth of the matter is he will never find ya. You see like I said before time moves a little different in this dimension, one hundred years passes in just a matter of a few days. You see, you'll be a rotting corpse in the ground when your brother finds you—if he finds you that is."

"You son of a bitch!" Dean cursed, he lunged for the demon, but the demon pulled the shocker gun out electrocuting Dean before he had a chance to give the bastard a proper punch in the face.

"Watch your tongue now, boy." the demon warned, flashing Dean his toothless smile. "Would not want me to force you to bite it off would you?"

"That does not really sound that pleasant, but then again if you did who would here to scoop up your animal crap or give you pretty little pink manicures" Dean scoffed, causing the demon to throw him a filthy look.

The demon punched him in the face. Dean felt his nose break, like the loud snapping sound of a twig breaking in half. He huddled over, his hand reached for his nose that was now gushing blood.

"I can see I'm gonna have some trouble with you." the demon spat. He kicked hard at Dean's ribs once again, causing the young man to fall to the ground.

Dean lay on the ground, his right hand over his bloody mess of a nose and his left hand nursed his ribs. He squeezed his eyes shut, he hoped this was all some kind of bad dream. But once he snapped his eyes open again, Dean knew that was not the case. He was stuck in this world, without Sam, and without not even a hope of trying to escape because if the demon was telling the truth and somehow Dean knew it was, he would die of old age in just a few short days. He had to find a way out, he had to escape. But first Dean needed to find himself some chalk, and some water. He would show his "master" who was the more powerful creature of them all.

--------------------


	5. Chapter Four

Alright a **big **thank you to everyone who has reviewed and/or read this story, it means a lot and basically keeps me writing. I love to her feedback. Oh and by the way the "amulet" that I will refer to in this story actually has a name I just cannot remember what they are called, so for sake of not getting it wrong I just called it an amulet, basically it is the one John Winchester used in the season one episode "Salvation."  
_-Author's note._

_--------------------_

**-Chapter Four-**

Dean moved as swiftly and as silently as he could around the barn. He kept an eye out for his "master" or any sign of a demon or person for that matter. He kept flinching at every odd noise he heard only to discover soon afterward that it had been caused by the wind. Dean peered around the edge of the barn, all his senses were sharpened. When he was for certain that the cost was clear he dashed toward the well. Dean pulled a amulet out of his pocket, something he been able to use to turn ordinary water into something that was toxic to demons. Dean had also managed to smuggle some salt that he found while rummaging through the cupboards of the house. Dean had had to search frantically through the cupboards in secret and as silent as he could while his "master" had been taking a nap. He had also been forced to give that demon a bath as well, reaching for hard to reach places if you got his drift. It had been a sight Dean had so badly wanted to forget, because now every time he closed his eyes all he could picture in his mind was that frightening and unforgettable image. Dean had a feeling he that memory would scare and haunt him for life.

Dean had to admit that his master was pretty stupid, what kind of demon in their right mind would keep salt in their house—one that was clearly idiotic that was for sure. But then again this was a different world, and in his world humans would not dare use salt against their masters—but Dean would, this wasn't his world so why should he have to go by some stupid rule that some stupid demon made up.

Dean leaned over the well, holding the amulet secularly in his hands. He began to mutter words under his breath, words that were in the language of Latin. He didn't really know what they meant, but at least he he knew what this chant would do. Prior to this Dean had been pacing up and down the barn, trying to rack his brains for two hours to try and remember the chant. He had repeated it over and over again in his mind, until the words sounded completely right. Of course he would never know if they were, because he couldn't exactly try it on water test it on anyone now could he? However Dean was fairly certain the chant was right, and besides what did he really have to lose?

Dean was almost finished the chant when shrill call of his master's voice made him almost drop the amulet into well. He glanced briskly over his shoulder, staring at the stern faced look of his master. The demon crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes flashing black. It did not look too pleased with Dean, and Dean could only hope that it did not know what he was really up to, otherwise it would probably cut his head off—or whatever this psycho's did for execution around here. Maybe the demon would eat him, actually that sounded about right too. Dean suspected that if he were to put a toe out of line, well more so than he already has, than he would be the next 'secret' ingredient to his lunchtime sandwich. The thought of being sandwich together with bugs and mustard sprinkled over the top made Dean feel sick in the stomach.

The demon clicked his tongue, Dean had no idea what he was doing this for.

"What do you think you're doing, human?" the demon demanded, raising it's voice.

"You know you really shouldn't stress too much, master, you'll send yourself into a cardiac arrest—or can't demon's get heart attacks?" Dean said, sarcasm in his tone.

The demon smirked at him. Clearly he become used to Dean's smart ass remarks, though it did not stop the nasty thing from zapping him with that gun he so valuably loved.

"What were you doing?" the demon ordered again, using the gun to point toward the well.

Dean hesitated. He didn't know if the demon actually knew what he was doing or not. He could always lie, in fact that was what Dean was planning to do, but if the demon knew that he was trying to make holy water than lying would not do him much good. Dean was just going to go with his gut feeling on this one, he was going to go with the assumption that his "master" was an idiot.

"I was thirsty." Dean lied, he tried not to make it look _that _obvious though.

The demon narrowed it's beady little eyes on Dean, perhaps it was trying to sniff out a lie, but never less in the end it looked convinced—angry—still, but convinced. "GET BACK TO WORK!" it yelled, turning on it's heel to march to wards the house. "Oh--" it began, turning it's head around to smirk at him, "--if I catch you drinking or even slacking off at all, again, I will throw you down that well personally."

Dean gave him a slight nod before turning around himself to finish the ritual. He couldn't help but feel proud of himself, he was a good liar to a fool a demon but then again that was not really saying too much because this demon was a moron.

-------------------

"It's a simple question, Ruby."

Ruby, the demon, glanced up at Sam, staring into the young man's warm brown eyes. She gave him a smile, one that a person would give to an old friend they had not see in perhaps months or even years but then again Ruby had to remind herself that she was not a person, she a demon, no matter how much she disliked it. She tossed her long wavy blond hair over her shoulder, twirling some of the golden locks around her fingers. She blinked a few times at Sam, giving a dazed expression. She did not know what he was referring to. He had summoned her, some time of an hour ago, she had been surprised, all this time Ruby had believed that Sam did not like her much. Yet here he was, the young Winchester, the hunter needed her help—a demon's. Maybe she would not give him the answer he was looking for right away, maybe she would just play dumb just to toy with him. She loved doing that, it was great fun even if she did have a weak spot for the young man.

Ruby did not know why she liked Sam, of course not in a romantic notion, never, she would never stray from her own kind so much, but she was fixated with him. It was obsession really, something she could not understand even herself. Of course Ruby had asked herself over and over again why she even wanted to help him, after all Sam was a demon hunter it was his job to hunt and kill her but then again Sam also had that Antichrist thing working for him, something she found immensely fascinating. What could she say, she had a weak spot for those kinds of special people.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Sam." she answered sweetly, a coy smile played around her pouty lips. "You summon me, ask me about a demon that you don't even know the name of and you expect me to answer you in full detail. I'm sorry, Sam, but you are going to have to give more to go by then it kidnaps people. Many demons share that M.O, we're not all that original you know."

Sam just looked at her for a few moments. "I don't believe you." he said.

Ruby frowned. She was telling the truth, she did not know what he was talking about. He had summoned her, using a spell she honestly hated and was interrogating her with questions about a demon that takes humans. It wasn't that easy to answer, if Sam had given her at least a name to go by she would have been a tad more useful.

"What is all this about, Sam?" she asked him, a question she had been pondering on herself for the past hour now. Sam looked upset about something, she wanted to know why.

"It's Dean, he's missing." Sam answered, his eyes glanced to wards the ground of the hunter Bobby Singer's living room. He did not look up at Ruby again, something she was quite frankly hurt by. She liked eye contact, it was more—decent.

"Oh." Ruby said. "Now I see."

"Now you see what!?" Sam asked fervently. "Can you help me or not?"

"I can't help you Sam." she answered, even she did not like her answer any more than Sam did. "I cannot help you when you don't even give me a name, or even a description—although that would be no help, after all demons possess numerous people, the demon you question may have already let that body to rot in the ground--"

"Ruby!?" Sam cut across. "I need your help! I need to find my brother."

Ruby looked at him for a few moments, she was surprised, Sam was usually knocking back her help but then again when it came to that older brother of his he was always badgering her for answers she did not always have the right response to. But what else could she do at that moment, she had a soft spot for him, she could not just leave her little solider boy to keep on crying about his brother she had to help him, she guessed.

"Fine." she answered, finally giving in. "I'll see what I can do, but Sam you are going to have to tell me everything you know about this demon, if you expect me to help you?"

--------------------

Dean wrinkled his nose at the smell of his "master's" dinner. It was boiled human flesh, disgusting. Dean did not who's flesh it had belonged to, but at that moment he was just glad that it was not his own.

"Here is your dinner." Dean said, placing the plate of food (if you please) on the small wooden table.

The demon did not thank Dean, well Dean had not expected it too. Even though Dean was tired of being zapped, and all that static could not be any good for him, Dean had not quick with the quick remarks. If he were to suddenly act all nice then the demon was bound to know what he was up too. Dean had a plan, it was all mapped out in his mind. He just had to wait for the right moment. Of course the plan was good, but so many things could go wrong. If he were to mess up he knew the demon would not be very pleased with him. Not that Dean really cared for his "master's" approval but he did not want the old hillbilly to kill him and then mount his head on the wall. The demon had quite a collection of human heads too, old servants, it was a collection the demon told Dean about with pride. Why the old geezer was proud of stuffing humans and mounting their heads was something Dean would never understand.

After he had finished serving the demon's dinner, Dean moved out to wards the living room where the demon kept his 'trophies'. He tried not to look at the poor human heads that were staring blankly at him, all with look of complete torture, perish and fear on their faces. The whole room was full of things that had belonged to humans, like the coaches Dean had learned had been made of not leather but human skin stitched together. The tables and chairs were made out of human bones, and the demon liked to keep souvenirs of it's victims such as their teeth, their eyes, their organs and kept them in a jar on top of the fireplace.

Dean moved swiftly passed a shrunken human skull, his eyes were diverted away from it, he did not wish to throw up over the whole scenery of the room—again. Dean waited in the corner of the room, he waited for the right signal and there it came from the opposite room—the kitchen, Dean heard a loud and ear splitting shriek coming from the kitchen. Dean could not help but grin maliciously. He had boiled the demon's human flesh in holy water, something he was rather proud of himself for thinking up.

The demon marched into the room, it's eyes entirely black, it's face was pulled into an expression of fury and steam was coming from it's mouth.

"You!" it growled, pointing a bony finger at him.

"Me." Dean said, still grinning, holding up the amulet he had used to create the holy water in the first place.

"You evil little--" but before the demon could take another step closer to Dean, he looked up, his face went from bright red to a light shade of purple within seconds.

Dean looked up too, though unlike the demon he had a smile on his face. On the ceiling, directly above the demon, Dean had drawn a Devil's Trap, something that if a demon got caught it would be trapped and powerless.

Dean pointed to wards the ceiling, the demon's eyes following his index finger.

"Devil's Trap, you son of a bitch!"

-------------------


	6. Chapter Five

**-Chapter Five-**

"_Devil's Trap, you son of a bitch!"_

As soon as the demon heard these words, mainly the first two rather than the other words of choice that flown from Dean's open mouth, it had become enraged with fury. It turned on him, tried to take steps further to Dean, his facial features were pulled into an expression of pure loathing, it looked like every part of it wanted to tear Dean to shreds. But it could not walk a step closer, the power of the devil's trap was too strong for it. It was trapped, powerless, basically like a rodent that had just found it's way into a mousetrap.

-----------------

"So you trapped me, good for you." the demon said, tossing Dean a dark look.

Dean looked down at the demon, who was now bound by rope to one of it's own human bone made chairs. It snarled at him, bearing it's toothless mouth, and causing Dean to have to smell the rotting stench of it's foul breath.

"Bet you didn't see that one coming." Dean smirked. He felt relieved to be the one looking down on the demon, rather than the opposite way around, it was refreshing. Dean could not wait to teach the demon a thing or two about just how powerful and dangerous a human's strength could be, but before he was to going beating the bloody hell out the creature Dean needed to irrigate the filthy thing for answers. Like how the hell he had come to be in a place like this? That was the first of the many questions he had lined up.

"You're a hunter, aint cha?" the demon said, he seemed rather sickened by the thought of having a demon hunter in it's home. "And to think I welcomed you--"

"If you're going to say you welcomed my with open arms I gotta say that would be stretching the truth, just a little." Dean scowled.

"Ah, I see, I know you don't belong here, you hunters were killed off long before now." the demon said coldly, causing Dean to arch an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, what is this place?" Dean asked, this was question he had been trying to figure since arriving in his God-for-saken pit of a world.

"Earth." the demon answered, even in it's position it could not help but smile.

"This isn't earth." Dean was quick to reply. "This looks nothing like it. If I'd of known any better I would have said this place was like--"

"Hell?" the demon cut across, finishing Dean's sentence perfectly. Though it was not the words that Dean would have liked to hear.

"Is this hell?"

The demon let out a dry and crackled like laugh. "_Is this hell_?" it scoffed, mocking Dean's words. "Of course it's not hell, you bloody idiot, didn't I tell you before that this is earth, you know third rock from the sun."

Dean frowned, a look of utter confusion crossed his face. This was not earth, how could it possibly be? The world he had lived in some 48 hours ago had been nothing like this one. For starters there had been a sun—there had been daylight, and the world had not been ruled under demonic command. And what was the demon talking about, the hunters had been killed long ago? What did that mean? As far as Dean knew there had been plenty of hunters before. It just made no sense.

"This cannot be."

The demon gave him a malicious grin. "Oh, but it can be."

The sound of the front door breaking down made both Dean and the demon turn a sharp eye in the front door's direction. The sounds of smashing windows in the kitchen could now be heard, followed by the sound of men calling out.

They were demons, Dean was sure of it. He could not see their faces, but he knew it was already a matter of time before they came bursting through the living room door, looking for something to string up. Dean could only curse under his breath, somehow they had known that he had trapped the demon, somehow the weasel of a demon he had tied to a chair had warned them. One thing was certain, Dean was not going to wait around to find out what was going to happen to him.

Before breaking the window in the room, Dean turned to his "master", giving him a dark, cold stare. He snapped his fist forward, punching the demon hard in the face. That was something he had been meaning to do for a long time of hard labor and zapping the demon had bestowed upon him.

With one last satisfied grin, Dean turned towards the window, moving his fists forward and shattering the glass. He did not look back as he jumped out of the window, ignoring the shard of broken glass that had sliced painful in the flesh on his lower calf muscle, Dean made a run for it. He was not entirely sure where he was going but if the demon had been telling the truth than Dean knew exactly where he was to head to next.

-----------------

It was late, Sam did not have the exact time on him at that moment but all he knew was that it was well past midnight. His left hand had been used as a rest for his chin, while his right hand punched away at the keys on the laptop. Sam's eyes had been glued to the glaring light of the computer screen now for over five or six hours straight, any longer and Sam's eyes were going to burst—of course he wasn't speaking literally.

"Found anything?" Bobby asked Sam, placing a fresh bottle of beer down on the wooden table beside Sam and picked up his old one that had been emptied long before.

"Thanks." Sam said gratefully, picking up the beer Bobby had just placed next to him.

"I'm trying, looking, but nothing."

"What have you been looking for exactly?" Bobby asked.

"Well, any demon or any creature for that matter that takes people and basically makes them vanish off the face of the earth." Sam answered, the whole time he spoke he did not look up at Bobby once, proffering to keep his eyes fixated on the screen in front.

"What, and you haven't found anything!?" Bobby asked in amazement.

"No, that's the thing I've found too much, there isn't really much to go by on this guy. My best guess right now would be a demon, but we can't know for certain until Ruby comes back with some info. I sure hope she comes through on this one, she's are last life-line—in fact she was our only life-line from the start." Sam shook his head slightly, he couldn't believe he had just said that. Ruby was the last person, or more so demon, that Sam would have expected himself to work with or even trust for that matter.

"What time is by the way." he asked Bobby, tearing his eyes away from the screen to try and catch a glance at the hunter's bronze wristwatch.

"It is--" Bobby held his arm up, eyes squinting at the tiny numerals on the clock's face, "--just past three a.m. Speaking of which, when was the last time he got some sleep?"

Sam tried to rack his brains for an answer, but there wasn't one. He had not gotten a decent nights sleep in the past forty-eight hours. Since Dean's disappearance, Sam had not been able to eat let alone close his eyes for just a few moments. He was just too worried, too full of angst, it would just not let him fall to sleep. Every time Sam even were to shut his eyes, even for a second, horrible images would fill his mind, images of Dean—not so good ones either.

"That's what I thought." Bobby said, almost like he had read Sam's mind. "You should get some sleep leave the rest of the researching to me for a few hours."

"No." Sam answered flatly, he was grateful, touched that Bobby was concerned about him but he couldn't bail on Dean now. Dean had brought Sam back from the dead, even if it were for selfish reasons, Sam was still grateful. And even if he hadn't Sam would still feel the need to be there for his big brother at all times. Sam had looked up to the guy from a very young age, it had always been Sam that had had Dean's back and now the tables were turned and Sam would not fail Dean—he wouldn't, he couldn't.

"If you insist." Bobby said, he didn't even press the matter any further with Sam. Perhaps the hunter just didn't want to start another argument and Sam was thankful for that one too, they were both too tired to argue over something so minor.

"She aint back yet." Bobby said gruffly. He had turned away from Sam to look out the window, his eyes narrowed at woods and driveway ahead.

"Who isn't back yet?" Sam asked, he had a pretty good idea as to who Bobby was referring to, so it was a rather stupid question for Sam to ask. Clearly Bobby had thought this too because he had chosen not to respond.

"I don't trust her." Bobby said, he wasn't even trying to hide the coldness in his voice.

"That's like the thousandth time you've said that, Bobby" Sam was brisk pointed out.

The hunter turned to give Sam a wary look. "I have my reasons not to trust demons, as should you."

"Listen, I don't trust her too much either but right we need to find Dean," Sam slammed the laptop shut which had gotten him nowhere, only really sore and bloodshot eyes. "--and besides, I don't think Ruby trusts us too much either."

-----------------

He was in New York, that was all he knew.

Dean walked around the deserted city, he kept in shadow. No one was around, as far as he could tell anyway, but he wanted to make sure that he kept well hidden just in case some big bad decided to wanted to go for a midnight stroll. It was still dark, no real surprises there. The demon had been right to say that the sun didn't come out but Dean knew that he was lying about one thing; the fact that a hundred years would pass by in a matter of days. It had been at least two days, maybe a day and half and he was yet to age. His skin did not sage, and his hair was certainly not turning white or even gray, it just remained the light brown color it had always been. One thing that had changed about his appearance in the last 48 hours was a colour that had been kept on his neck. Dean dared not take it off, he doubted the demon had been telling the truth about it but he even so he wasn't going to choose vanity over the risk of having his head detached from his body.

Dean passed by an old movie theater—well at least he thought it was old, because it was barley even standing anymore, the windows were shattered, the wood was charred and the doors were barley hanging off their hinges. The lights, and the movie signs had been almost burned to a crisp, and they too were hanging on by a threat. Dean moved closer to one of the signs, squinting his eyes for a better look, it proved difficult as the sign had been so badly burned. He did not recognize the movie, at all, and he knew a lot of movies. From what he could see he guessed that it was a horror movie or some kind of dark drama. However he could not ponder the endless and certainly boring possibilities of what the film may have been. Didn't matter anyway, it wasn't like it was screening or anything, the place was an absolute dump as well as most of the other places around the city. The once tall and standing buildings were no more than just a pile of rumble in the ground, don't get him wrong, some were still standing although they appeared just a little dodgy. Dean supposed that if he were to go into one of these buildings they would most likely collapse on him.

It looked like the city that never sleeps had finally been put to rest.

Dean looked around him, anxious to find a pay phone. He could not use his cell as the demon he had been forced to call "master", but no more, had snatched it off of him. Dean much doubted it would have worked anyway, the last he had seen of it the screen had been all caved it. Dean noticed a pay phone only a few feet ahead of him, he rushed towards it ignoring the stabbing pains that suddenly shot threw all the muscles in his legs and feet. Dean pushed open the glass booth only to realize that as soon as he touched it it just crumbled to his feet. Dean reached his hand out for the phone, placing it to his ear and listening he realized that it was no goer, the line was dead—shocker there, really. He had not expected it to work because nothing in this place seemed to go too smoothly, well nothing really did in life.

Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Well that was a bloody waste of--" before he could finish his words a sound nearby sharpened his hearing. He spun around, now facing a darkened alleyway. He heard something, the sounds of footsteps.

Someone was there, someone had been watching him.

----------------


	7. Chapter Six

**-Chapter Six-**

Dean had his eyes fixated on the alleyway, he did not look away not even to blink. He stayed still, half out of fear but mainly because he knew that any sudden movements made on his behalf would either scare whoever or whatever away or simply cause them to suddenly jump out and attack. A thought had occurred to Dean that the noises he had heard may have been made by just a stray cat, dog or even rats gnawing away at rubbish in the bins but Dean couldn't afford to take any chances. He would have to wait and see who it was or what it was, that would be more accurately putting things and besides Dean doubted that the noise was made by an animal. He had have sworn he had heard voices and unless cats had learned how to talk than it was defiantly something that Dean should be on his guard about.

Dean moved his hands toward his pockets, his right hand's fingers gripped firmly around the handle of a kitchen knife he had swiped from the demon's home earlier on. Rule number one with demon hunting: never go anywhere, particularly dark places without a knife or some way of protecting yourself. That rule was right up there with 'keep your cell phone on you at all times', well Dean could hardly do that one. If the noises were being made by a demon Dean still had holy water on him, he would have been an idiot to leave that one behind, what with demons running around the place and all. So if the knife were to fail the holy water would make do.

Dean kept his eyes focused, still glaring in the direction of the alley, they had begun to water but he didn't care. Slowly and carefully Dean began to move the knife out of his pocket but as soon as the steel end of the knife had reflected off the moon, it was glittering if you please, whoever was watching him suddenly came out of hiding.

Dean had been completely caught off guard when this had happened. He had tried to dart out of the way but he had been unsuccessful, too slow. The person—whoever the hell they were were strong, Dean had to give them that. They pinned him down. Dean felt sharp and long fingernails digging into the flesh on his shoulders, he felt the pain sear through him, he felt the warmth of his blood seeping through the newly made wound and soaking his shirt. Using all the strength he could muster Dean pushed them off of him. He rolled across the ground, quickly regaining his balance once again. The person, whoever they were, did not give up, they lunged for him again but this time Dean was ready.

Dean had the knife ready in his hands. He waited for the person to come closer, it was too dark to see their face but he could faintly see the outline of their body. They were small framed, tiny in height, Dean would have guessed no taller than five foot three. He was going to take the most logical guess on this one and say that his attacker was female.

Although Dean had the knife ready she kicked it out of his hand then sent a flying side-kick at his chest. Dean stumbled backward, nursing his ribs that he was sure were about to break.

Dean looked up at her, although she would not be able to see it his face was pulled into an expression of rage. He pounced at her, thrusting his fist forward. He missed her face but instead his fist made direct contact with her shoulder blade.

She let out a soft whimper, out of instinct she placed her right over her shoulder, she looked at him—though it was unclear why, it was too dark to see anything and you could hardly relay on the very little moonlight that was shining down upon the city. The source of light was a faint glitter coming from the sharp edged kitchen knife that was gripped firmly by Dean.

Dean lunged for her again, but she was quick to see this one coming. She darted out of the way, and spun forward, sending a flying kick his way, her foot made contact with his midsection. Dean howled him pain, he knew one of his ribs much be broken now, he staggered backward though it did not take too long for him to regain his balance once again. Dean now felt more enraged with anger than he ever had been, it seemed that all the anger he had been forced to bottle up for the past two days was finally rearing it's ugly head. Good for Dean, that he had an outlet to unleash his anger upon—but not so good for whoever this chick is that was receiving the punches and kicks his fury was dishing out.

Dean was sent flying backward as another kick came pelting his way, he hit the ground, every bone in his body felt like it was broken but that impossible as he could still move his arms and legs. He just lay there, his muscles were twitching. He wanted to get up, but something seemed to be holding him back. He looked up, the chick was charging at him once again—he had no choice this time he had to try and stand no matter how much his wounded body would try and resist.

Dean did was quick to get back on two feet, the floor felt a little shaky at first, it felt like he was just learning to walk again. But Dean did not have the time to stand around waiting for the sensation of being drunk to pass, he had to get her before she got him.

She was pelting his way once again, she had been ready to throw a side-kick toward his head, it would have given Dean quite the concussion too if it had not been for Dean's quick reaction. He stopped the kick, blocking it, then sent her flying backward. She landed on her stomach, but before he could even more a step forward, breve another breath, she was back on her two feet. Dean had to hand it to her, whoever she was she could sure hold her own.

Dean would have been somewhat impressed with her martial arts skills if it had not been for the fact that she was trying to kill him.

A nearby loud sound in the distance made Dean's attention turn away from her for longer than a second at least but that second had been a moment to long. She pounced, alike a tiger that had just spotted her pray.

Dean had tried to move out of the way but he had not been quick enough. With one swift kicking motion she sent him flying into the brick wall. She dashed toward him, pinning him against the wall. Dean tried to move his hand to push her out of the way but she snapped it back. Dean howled in agony as he felt the bone in his wrist snap like a twig. He winced again as she sent another heavy blow to his ribs, they were tearing, shards of bone were breaking inside of him, and it let to his collapse. Dean was driven to the ground, all the fight gone from him, all he had left was the severe and tremendous pain from his broken wrist and ribs.

The last thing he remembered seeing was the feint glow coming from the moon above. Then the rest was only darkness.

------------------

_All the pain he felt no more, it was too distant, almost as though he had managed to step away from it all somehow. Was he dreaming? _

_Somewhere in the distant darkness he could hear a voice, a harsh toned voice, so cold it sent shivers up and down his spine. It was the voice of true evil. _

_He could hear to talking to someone else, saying something. He tried to move closer to hear the voice better but he could only make out fragments of the conversation. _

"_...the other world...humans...all who live, who breve must be exterminated...fight back be killed...bring down the scum and those who dare appose...bring upon the end of the world...a new world..._

_The voice was fading out, it was now to distant for him to hear. He tried to follow it but it faded out too fast and then he saw something else—someone—someone he recognized almost immediately. _

_Sam Winchester._

_He could feel his heart beat faster when he saw his young brother's face. He tried to move more toward Sam, but something seemed to be stopping him. He tried to call out to Sam, but something was preventing him from doing so. Every time he opened his mouth to speak nothing could come out. _

_He needed to talk to Sam.  
__He needed to warn him._

_Sam was now fading too, fading from his mind. He could no longer see his brother anymore, he tried to call out but only the sounds of silence would escape his mouth. _

_He had to warn Sam.  
__He had to find Sam._

_All consciousness was coming back. The darkness was fading, too, now he saw a small and extremely bright light. _

------------------

Consciousness returned to Dean in agonizing fragments. It began in his hands, his broken wrist especially, it then began to creep up toward his neck, his head felt like it was on fire. The pain began to move toward his lower libs, starting with calf muscles and then there was the ribs—they hurt the most.

Dean's eyes snapped open, it was so dark around him that he had wonder why even bothered to open his eyes to begin with. Dean looked around him, he did not recognize anything. The room was so darkened, he could only make out a faint, soft glow coming from one single lit candle. It proved barley useful, if so entirely useless. Dean wondered why the person need bother to waste a match.

Dean tried to move but he couldn't, his arms were bound to a wooden chair, he could feel the splinters in the back of his legs. He tried to break free but whoever or whomever had tied him up had done a pretty damn good job of it. At least this time Dean wasn't gagged nor did he had a blind fold over his eyes, but there was still room for improvement.

Dean had been tied up to a chair and held hostage so many times he had lost count, he had also lost his interest in it. It was boring to him. Dean looked around, hoping to catch even the slightest glimpse of the person or people that had put him here. One thing he knew, they were in the room somewhere. It was so silent he could hear the sounds of breathing, one person breathing.

"I know you're around here somewhere." Dean called out into the darkness. "Why don't you show your face bitch!"

At these last words someone stepped forward, he could hear the sounds of their shoes moving against the tiles. A soft clicking sound and there was light. The room had been lit by a hanging lamp above Dean. Dean had to shield his eyes, the light was so bright it was almost blinding him. He moved his gaze toward the man that was now standing before him. He looked around mid to late twenties, he had very pale skin—though that was probably due to the fact that this guy could hardly thrive on sunshine in this world, he had probably never been out to tan in—well God knows when. He had short spiky dark brown hair and in a lot ways reminded Dean of himself, most likely because of the cocky smile the guy wore upon his face. The man had his arms crossed firmly against his chest, his gray eyes were focused solely upon Dean.

After a few minutes it was starting to make Dean feel rather uncomfortable—very uncomfortable. The guy had a hungry look in his eyes and had begun circling him, much like a shark did right before it was it ate it's prey. Dean shifted in his seat, or more so tried to. The guy moved forward, opening it's mouth wide to reveal something that made Dean's eyes widen. It had fangs—it was vampire. The vamp moved it's mouth to Dean's neck, the young Winchester could feel the tip of it's fangs press lightly against it's skin. The vampire moved it's fangs back for a moment, it was ready to strike. Dean squeezed his eyes shut, he just hoped this wasn't going to hurt much.

Dean waited, waited for the creature's fangs to pierce into his jugular vein but it never came. A voice called out to the vamp, causing the creature to slowly back away.

"Reiff, no!" the voice called out to the vampire.

Dean opened his eyes to see who had called out to the vampire. He saw someone now, a young women, someone he recognized almost immediately as the girl he had fought in the alleyway earlier that evening. Of course he had not seen her face then, but he recognized her, also the amount of bruising she had spoke for itself especially the painful greenish colored bruising that was around her shoulder blade—the exact spot Dean had struck.

"We don't want to kill him." she said, though the corrupt grin she wore would have suggested otherwise. "Not yet anyway."

--------------------


	8. Chapter Seven

**-Chapter Seven-  
**

_No yet anyway...that does not sound too comforting, _Dean thought. He had taken his eyes off the young women, perhaps he was fearful she might start using him as her human punching bag again but mostly it was because he did not like vampires much. Yet the more Dean stared at the young women the more he began to believe that she was not a vampire. He had heard breathing, and that had not been coming from Reiff—obviously, vampires did not breve—they did not really need to. After all the undead things were that—undead. So what was she?

"Slave?" the young women asked the vampire who Dean now knew to be named Reiff.

"Why would you say that?" the vamp asked her in response. "He could just be possessed, we've been fooled before."

"The collar." the young women pointed towards the collar Dean wore around his neck. "I doubt demons would be willing to subject themselves to wearing the mark of a slave, Reiff."

"I don't trust him." the vampire said coldly. "He attacked you, didn't he?"

"Excuse me." Dean said, causing both the young women and the vampire to divert their attention back to him. Dean had been sitting—obviously tied up to the chair, had been looking from the young women to the vampire with a utterly confused expression upon his face. "I'm not possessed and as for the attack it was your little girlfriend here that did the attacking."

"She's not my girlfriend." replied the vampire snappishly.

"Me, attack you?" the young women scoffed. "I did nothing of the sort. You drew a knife, my defenses were up and what the hell was I supposed to do? If you happen to notice this place, this world has been torn apart by those who believe they are better than the rest of us."

"I've noticed." Dean said darkly. "Believe me when I say that."

"There will be no believing you." the vampire said briskly afterwards. "_He _sent you didn't he--"

"Reiff!" the young women snapped. She glared at him. "We can't go accusing someone of something so sinister. He's a human, I can smell it and so should you. I doubt _he _would send a human after us, especially one as armature fighter as this one--"

"Hey!" Dean cut across, slightly cut by her words. He was pleased she was on his side but her words had offended him slightly. After all at some stages during there combat he had the upper hand over her at times, so what did that make her? A hypocrite maybe?

Dean was dumb founded by the whole conversation these two were having. Who was _he_? Dean doubted it was him they were referring to. The way the vampire mentioned it it was like _he _was the worst thing that could ever exist. But maybe it was, maybe _he _was some kind of demon king...or something. Dean did not know anything about this world and he certainly didn't want to stick around to find out anymore about it than he already did.

"You look fearful." the young women said to him.

Dean scoffed. "_Fearful?_" he repeated. "Damn right, between you calling the shots and your necromantic buddy there with fangs bared and staring at me like I'm a Christmas turkey, I believe fearful is an understatement."

"You look confused too." the young women said, almost like she had not listened to a word Dean had just said. "Who are you?"

Dean hesitated for a few moments, because the last name Winchester was hardly popular with vampires, demons and the like, even the law enforcement these days despised the name. "Dean Winchester." he answered in length. "And I'm not a demon, werewolf, vampire or any other forces of the unknown." Dean added. He cast a dark look at the vampire.

"You're a human?" the young women asked him and Dean gave her a slight nod in response. "Get the collar off of him." the young women ordered.

"Wait a moment!" Dean exclaimed, holding a hand out to stop the vampire from undoing the buckle on the collar.

"What!?" the young asked impatiently.

"Wont undoing the collar decapitate me?" Dean asked.

The young women frowned. "No." she answered briskly. "Who told you that?"

"Doesn't matter." Dean mumbled. He was unsure whether he wanted the vampire near his neck while the creature's fangs were bared. It made Dean feel rather uncomfortable.

"Undo the ropes too." the young women ordered, again.

After undoing the collar and letting it fall to the ground, the vampire looked up at her fervently, clearly he was rather irritated with her bossing him around. "Are you sure that is wise?" the vampire asked. "He could still be a--"

"I doubt he is much a fret, Reiff and I do not believe he is one we need to protect ourselves from." replied the young women, she too wore an aggravated expression at the vampire, she didn't look like she was the type of person that liked to have to explain herself to others.

At first Dean had thought of the young women as a real bitch, in fact he had been planning to kill her once he got out of the ropes but once he was free Dean did not feel that urge anymore. He actually felt grateful toward her, after all if it weren't for her he would dead right now. Dean would have had his blood drained from his body by that vampire Reiff he wasn't particularly fond of.

Dean stood up, his legs ached in fact he swayed from side to side for a few moments and was forced to use a nearby desk to keep himself standing upright. He looked around the room, it appeared to be some kind of office, it looked like it, filing cabinets were lined in the corner though they had some serious dings in them, and paper was scattered everywhere, some even had blood smeared on it. The room looked like one nasty tornado had ripped it to shreds, in fact the whole city itself appeared that way.

"You got off lucky." the vampire spat, throwing Dean one last cold stare before turning around to walk out of the room. He slammed the doors behind him, causing paper to fly around the room.

The young women had been staring after him, biting her lower lip. She did not look like she liked the vampire all that much. She turned to look at Dean, she still did not appear like she trusted him all that much but it seemed that she was willing to trust him—something Dean should thank her for.

"Thanks." Dean said.

"Not a problem." she replied. "I should be saying sorry for tyeing you up to a chair." she added with a small smile.

"Yeah you should." Dean smiled back.

"But I'm not." she said shortly, the smile fading from her face. "We have our rights not to trust new people, we've been blind sighted in the past and with what happened last time I doubt Reiff will ever trust another stranger that walks into this place again."

"What's his deal anyway." Dean asked her, he did not really care all that much about a pissed off vampire he was just asking her to make conversation. In fact it was a relief for Dean to finally be able to talk to someone, even if that someone had already kicked his ass once.

"Reiff is—well how do I put it—trying to keep it PG rated here, he's not the kind of person that likes to meet new people." she responded lengthly.

Dean frowned. "I thought vampire's were all social nuts, you know really party goers--"

"Clearly you were wrong." the young women cut across. It did not bother Dean that she had interrupted him, in fact he rather liked her—not in a romantic sense, sure she was hot but she was _far _too intimating for his liking. She looked like the kind of girl that one would underestimate because of tiny and demure frame.

"I'm Gillian." she said, tossing him a bottle of dark red almost black liquid.

Dean caught the tiny glass bottle, his fingers trailed along it's cork lid. "What's this for?" he asked perplexed by the dark red liquid inside.

"Black blood." Gillian responded. "It'll help with those bruises and cuts you got there."

"What is black blood?" Dean asked. In all his life he had never heard of anything like that before.

Gillian smiled at him, clearly she liked having more knowledge than others did. Perhaps it gave her some kind of high opinion of herself, knowing that she was smarter than others. "It's demonic blood, Dean, you of all people should know that."

"Well I didn't didn't." Dean told her. "And why would you say that me of all people should know that? I thought you didn't know who I was."

"I don't." Gillian scoffed. "I've got no clue who you are and basically I don't really care but I do know that you devil trapped a demon earlier, knew you must know something. I just know these things." she quickly added these last words after noticing the way Dean had narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her.

"I'm not from around here." Dean told her.

"Well then--" she began, tossing him another smile, "--welcome to hell Dean!"

--------------------

Bobby Singer stood in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall with his hands folded against his chest. He stared at Ruby, his eyes narrowing distrustfully at her. Why should he trust her? She was a demon, a cold hearted bitch that was using Sam for God's knows what reason. Ruby claimed her intentions were good but the hunter did not believe that one for even a fraction of a second and Bobby thought that Sam should do the same.

"What do you mean you couldn't find anything!?" Sam cried, gaping at Ruby in disbelief.

Bobby could only grin at these words, sure it was bad news that the demon had not been located or hell even identified for that matter but Ruby had screwed up, just like Bobby had expected.

"It means I found jack squat Sam." Ruby retorted. To Bobby she sounded tired, she had probably been receiving the same lack of sleep he and Sam had been getting for the past few days. Bobby had no idea demon's even slept.

_Well, you learn something knew everyday, _the hunter thought to himself.

"Did you even try looking" Bobby asked her.

Ruby turned to Bobby, glaring at him icily. "Of course I did." she snapped. "What do you think I've been doing for the past 24 or more hours straight?"

"I don't know, probably having a good old laugh with your buddies from hell mocking how stupid you think we are." Bobby replied harshly.

"I wouldn't do that." Ruby snarled at him. "I _am _trying to help you, I'm doing the damn best I can and--"

"Well that's obviously no good!" Bobby scoffed.

Ruby was fuming at him. She looked like she was on verge of hitting him, though she looked like she was trying her best to restrain herself from doing so. _Well at least she's trying her best at something, _Bobby thought. He would not mind too much if she had of hit him, it would just give the hunter an excuse to smack that smart ass right out of her mouth.

"Can you two both cut this crap out!" Sam shouted, causing both Bobby and Ruby to flinch at the sound of the young Winchester's raised voice.

"That's better." Sam said. "Honestly, from the get go you two have been at each other's throats."

"He started it!" Ruby exclaimed, pointing a finger at Bobby.

"I don't give a rats ass who started it because I'm ending it." said Sam sternly.

There was silence after this. Sam's words may have prevented Bobby and Ruby's row but it had not stopped them from glaring savagely at each other. Both hunter and demon appeared like their hearts longed to heart the throat's out of each other and probably would have done it too if had not been for Sam.

"Listen I may not have found your demon Sam but I did find out something far worse." Ruby said, she sounded rather worried herself.

"What?" Sam asked. Ruby's words had perked Bobby's interest also.

"Something massive is going down, like I mean _huge._" Ruby answered.

"Like what? End of the world huge?" Sam asked worryingly.

"No, not the end of the world huge." Ruby replied. "The end of humanity huge."

------------------


	9. Chapter Eight

Thanks for all those who have reviewed, and I hope you are enjoying what you read so far. I just wanted to apologize for all grammatical, spelling or any other errors that appear in the chapters. Until now I have only been double checking my work, but now I have gone through all the chapters and have fixed up all errors and hopefully it will read better. I will be checking through my chapters at least several times before posting them. Alright once again thanks, sorry, and enjoy the next chapter.

_-Author's note._

-------------------

**-Chapter Eight-**

Sam stared at Ruby, trying make sense of what he'd just heard. "When you say '_end of humanity_' do you mean the end of mankind, because isn't that the same as ending of the world?"

Ruby and Bobby both shook their heads. "No." Ruby responded. "Just like the dinosaurs were wiped out, people can be too."

A crease line appeared on Sam's forehead, he frowned, not liking the sound of what he was hearing. "So demon's want to rid the world of man kind, well that's sure friendly."

"What can we say, we were here first—apparently." Ruby shrugged. "It's not pretty, but then you just have to think of it as like concurring nations—expect of course this is world domination they're looking for."

"_They're_?" Bobby repeated, his dislike for Ruby reared once again. "Aren't you a demon?"

Ruby gave the hunter a hard look. "We're not all the same." she replied bitterly. "I don't want to see the human race get plugged, I love shoes too much—Prada in particular. Now, who would make those beautiful, yet tastefully expensive shoes with human's gone?"

Sam shook his head in disbelief. Ruby may be a demon, but the women could at least have some kind of heart lodged in her chest. Ruby only cared about saving the human race because she wanted to save the manufacturing of Prada, well no surprises there.

Sam rolled his eyes at her, ignoring her comment to avoid conflict. "So do you know what their grand plan is?" he asked her.

"No." she said. "I heard all this from a friend of mine, he didn't say much, just that something big was going down—what I told you before. Besides, even if I asked any of the _others _I very much doubt they would shoot their mouths off and tell me. Words gotten out that I've been helping hunters, hasn't gone down so well with the rest of the demonic community."

"Oh what a shame." Bobby scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Ruby threw him a harsh stare. "They were my--"

"Alright, ENOUGH!" Sam shouted, stopping the argument before it became a full on row between the two. "Honestly, both of you, you're bickering like children. Now we got a war coming, and from the looks of things I'm the only one who's thinking straight here."

"You're right." Bobby said, along with a sigh.

Sam could see that Bobby was trying his best not to look at Ruby, perhaps to prevent himself from having a reason to start another fight. That was a good, because at that moment they all needed have their full attention on the problem at hand. Sam did not like the idea of demons planning to exterminate the human population, but then again Sam had been expecting something like this to happen ever since that army of demons had been let out from the Devil's Gate in Wyoming a few months back. But was this the same army of demons? After all, the yellow-eyed demon was dead, the army did not have a leader. So who was leading them now? Sam shuddered at thought of there being another demon out there who as power if not more powerful influence over demons as much as old yellow eyes had. But whatever the case, Sam was not going to allow the world to end. All the more reason to find Dean, and that would be Sam's first priority.

**-------------------**

Hospital's had always given him the chills.

Dean followed Gillian through the darkened and depressing hallways of an abandoned hospital. The place scared him, and not just because he felt uncomfortable in hospital's, but because the walls were, in some places were splattered with blood.

"If you think the place looks bad now you should have seen what it looked like before." Gillian told him after she had noticed the uncomfortable look on Dean's face. "The place was a frigging death trap. There were dead bodies everywhere, some even with their head's cut off."

Dean wrinkled his nose as he pictured the grisly image of bloody corpses with no heads. In his image Dean had pictured the corpses running around the place like zombies, knocking into each other—he doubted that was what really went down. Dean pushed the disturbing yet quite amusing image away. "What do you mean the people you found?" he asked.

Gillian tilted her head toward an elderly man that had just walked by them. The elderly man looked crippled, but Dean did not think that had come from just old age. Half of the man's face was missing due to serve and painful looking burns and scars. His face was not the only part of him that looked all char grilled, but there were more—if it were even possible—worse burns to his arms and legs. The elderly man hobbled passed them, glaring at Dean like he were some kind of enemy that could not be trusted. Dean stared back.

Once he was sure the elderly man was out of earshot, Dean tore his eyes away to look at Gillian. "What happened to him?" he asked her.

"Don't know, not for sure anyway." Gillian answered him.

"What you never asked?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Of course not." she replied. "That would be rude, besides the man's a mute, hasn't spoken a word in his life."

Dean arched an eyebrow. "How do you know he's not the bad guy?" he asked. Dean wondered whether Gillian and that vampire Reiff—or whatever the hell is name was—had tied that old man to a chair and questioned him, or was Dean the only one special enough to receive that kind of A-list treatment?

"What!?"

"Well I'm just asking if you questioned him at all about what side he's on?" as soon as Dean had asked this Gillian gave him a sharp look.

"I didn't question him—not much anyway?" she said.

"Oh, what just because you think he's all grandpa-ish that he's all mister sweet and innocent?"

Gillian continued to give him a loathsome look. Dean had only known the women for some two hours or so, but he knew she did not like to be questioned. Dean did not care what she wanted, hey the chick may have saved his life, but hell if it weren't for her he wouldn't have been tied to chair, now would he?

"You don't trust too many people, do you?" she asked him.

"Nope." Dean shook his head. "I just know too many criminal types."

Gillian looked surprised by Dean's response. "And you think that old man was a criminal type?" she asked, half laughing, half serious. "Dude, the guy's like crippled, even if he were a demon I doubt he could even throw a punch without falling to ground first."

Dean did not argue back, he knew he was defeated. He did not, and had not thought of the old crippled man as a demon or anything, he was more along the lines of trying to prove a point to this chick.

"So what is this place, exactly?" Dean asked.

"A hospital." she replied innocently.

"Yeah, I can see that. What I meant is why are you lot camping out here, I mean the place looks hardly sanitary?" Dean said. He looked around at the walls that he presumed were once white or a light cream color—that would have been the days—because now the walls were either blackened by burns, had smears of blood, or had mold and decay plastered on the plaster.

"It sure beats the old place." Gillian told him. "The last place we were hiding out in was the sewers, and yes I know hardly hygienic, but we had no other choice."

Dean still looked slightly puzzled, he was still confused as what went down here. He assumed that these people—even though there were vampires involved—were the good guys. From what information he had gathered so far he had general idea that this old hospital must be used as some sort hotel—defiantly no Hilton—for those who had escaped capture, and slavery from the demons. But some things were still not clear to him, like how did demons become in charge in the first place? Or what world exactly was this? It could be the future, some kind of post apocalyptic, hell kind of future. Though if it were the future he was feeling rather pleased that he had made that deal with the demon had the crossroads at that moment, because this would not be a kind of world that Dean would love to live in. But time travel? It all seemed rather far-fetched and insane to Dean, and that's taking it from someone that knows a lot about insane things. In all his year's—his father's years—as a hunter Dean had never found anything that could prove that time travel, or other dimensions existed. Other worlds were fictional places that had been created by wannabe screenwriters and Hollywood producers—it wasn't real.

"You look confused." Gillian said, snapping Dean back to reality.

"Yeah, I am." Dean said, scratching his head. "I still don't get what you guys--"

Dean had been unable to finish his words, because he had been cut off by a loud bang that had come from nearby. The sound had sounded much similar to bomb going off—not that Dean knew anything about bombs, but he had dealt with explosives before.

"We've got ourselves some unwanted company." Gillian muttered. "But how is that--". She turned to stare icily at Dean, her facial expression had gone from slightly mellow yet worried to venomous so fast it made Dean's head spin—not literally of course.

"You." she snarled.

"Wow, hang on!" Dean exclaimed, taking a few steps back from the young women. "I'm just as bewildered as you are here...honestly. I don't even know who is trying to get inside, or--"

"They're already inside the main entrance, won't be long now before they come around this corner." Gillian snapped, cutting Dean off.

"Listen, you can think or say all you want about me—just make sure it's not to my face—but I wouldn't tattle on you guys, alright? Besides, I've been with you the whole time, when did I once have the opportunity to sneak off and call my so-called buddies to tip 'em off?"

Gillian stopped advancing on him. "That's true." she said, thinking it through in her mind. Because Dean had not been away from her once, the chick had kept her too close to his side—perhaps that was because she hardly trusted him. "So you really didn't have anything to do with all this?" she asked.

"Like you didn't trust me before." Dean joked. "No I didn't." he answered, finally taking her question as seriously as she did.

"Alright, I believe you." she said. Though Dean doubted he was out of the woods with her yet, she still did not trust him—whatever that was her business.

"Good." Dean said. He thought it rather pointless to expect her to apologize for the way she had been treating him, not that Dean cared all that much, but it would have been nice for her to have done so. In the short space of time Dean had known this young women had had learned another thing, she did not like to apologize, mainly because that would be admitting that she had been wrong, and admitting that she was wrong would be much similar to Bobby saying "I love you" to someone—it just was never going to happen.

"These things are demons, right?" Dean asked Gillian, breaking off his thoughts.

Gillian nodded in response to his question.

"Good—well not good, but good meaning we can fight them, trap them."

"Trap them?" Gillian asked him.

Dean smiled, he knew something she didn't. "Yeah, trap 'em. Tell me, Gillian, you ever hear of a little thing called a Devil's Trap?"

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End file.
